Why thus is she wrapt in the black-curling smoke?

Why thus have her thunders tumultuously broke

O’er the halls of the dark-rolling wave?

Why thus have her star-crested flags been unfurl’d

Like the wings of some god from the sky to the world?

She battles abroad for the brave!

Proud hope of our land! we have given thy form

To the lord of the breeze and the god of the storm;

We have hung from the top of the high soaring mast

A broad sheet of stripes with the bird